It’s late evening when Jongin finishes practice, beat up and worn out from overexerting himself day in and day out, and today is no different. He woke up with his usual hangover, a massive headache pulsing in his skull, and he had no choice but to ignore it. Sick days were something Jongin couldn’t afford in the entertainment industry. If you didn’t show up, you didn’t perform. So he pops pills like he’s getting paid for it, and carries on with his responsibilities. His eyes were bloodshot and his face pale, but a little makeup here and there could cover enough to hide himself like always. Makeup is always the best mask, especially when Jongin’s personalities falter.

The only thing remotely decent about this particular day is that there will be no performance this evening. It’s nights like this when Jongin takes his usual stroll through the park, because its dark and lifeless in his big, empty apartment, and he doesn’t need to be reminded just how alone he truly is. The park, to Jongin, is a place to forget. To relax. To push aside the thoughts and feelings of the day, and simply be. Walking through nature is probably the best choice of stress relievers Jongin has found for himself, but it’s definitely not the strongest.

But something else is stirring inside Jongin: Anticipation. Anticipation for what he might find there this time, or who he might find there. But Jongin won’t let himself admit it. There are things Jongin doesn’t ever want to admit to himself. Can’t admit, or else he might break entirely. Being weak was something that can only be shown behind closed doors, alone, and secluded. But to publicly slip up.. What would be the use of an alterior personality if you were only going to falter in the first place? Jongin didn’t work so hard to break so easy. He formed calluses, and worked even harder.

Jongin found his pace picking up just slightly, his heart beating just a tad faster as he started down the narrow sidewalk from his apartment to the park. It was already becoming dark, and the street lamps suddenly flickered with life, immediately illuminating the crisp snow that was crunching under his shoes. The wind was a bit stronger than the last time he had walked along this path, but unlike the last time, he didn’t seem to feel it. His eyes were glued on the hundreds of tiny spotlights that lined the way before him, peering into the darkness for something, anything. Anyone, dare he think it.

Jongin found himself wandering farther and farther, turning corners and sometimes stumbling thanks to the ice under his frozen feet. By the time he reached the park, it was snowing heavily and the wind had picked up, pushing the flakes right into his face as he trudged along. “..” He nearly whimpered, stopping when he couldn’t feel his face anymore, twisting around in circles in a desperate attempt to see something. Anything. Anyone. Damn it. He knew he shouldn’t have bothered with ‘hope’. Hope brings dreams, and dreams only lead to sorrow, and sorrow leads to loss, and loss brings weakness. And Jongin doesn’t need more reason to be weak.

Jongin spots a bench a little ways off, directly under a lamp post, and makes his way to it, shuffling his feet and sniffling as he tries to bury his face in his scarf, his hands deep in his pockets. He plops down, already too cold to feel the prickling pain from the snow he just sat on, and curls into himself. He brings his arms in, crossing them and leaning forward to press them against his lap, his head dipping to burrow between his knees in a sad attempt to thaw his face.

It is soon after that when the wind dies down, and the snow lets up just enough. But Jongin is shivering, and tired, and frozen to the bone. Jongin is hopeless. He doesn’t move, despite the fact that everything has let up. Jongin likes the cold; likes being able to not feel anything- to be numb. There is a sick, twisted sort of comfort that comes to Jongin at times like this, when freezing to death could be an option, and he feels virtually painless. Painless.

Jongin is so absorbed in himself he hardly hears the soft crunch of the freshly fallen snow under the feet of some being, until it stops right beside him. The final crunch comes when the being lands just beside Jongin on the bench, light and small sounding, almost as if it were just a pile of snow fallen from a nearby tree. But Jongin still doesn’t move.

Jongin hates people who think they know everything. He hates the ones that try to comfort with words of encouragement and praise, because what do they know? They don’t really know how much Jongin is worth. They don’t really know Jongin. He hates the ones that talk like they’ve been there before, or have dealt with the issue a million times before. He hates the ones that assume they know what the problem is, without Jongin having spoken a word. Jongin simply hates people. ‘But not…’ He starts to think, and stops himself. No. He hates them all.

When no sound comes from the thing beside him, Jongin lets out a ragged sigh and forces himself to sit up, his eyes slowly trailing over to the figure beside him. As if on cue, his eyes widen and his heart beat picks up. Can he really be so lucky to find what he has secretly been looking for? Perhaps it wasn’t so secret after all. Who is he kidding, it’s written all over his face and he can’t erase it.

The stranger is looking to the sky again, his eyes soft and shimmering as they catch the light coming from the street lamp above them. His lips are curved in the same small smile Jongin remembers so vividly in his memory, just as pink and delicate as before. His rosy cheeks give a hint that his body is healthy, and warm while the rest of his face radiates pure light. Jongin almost craves the warmth that seems to flow from the other’s body and into his, even if they aren’t touching.

Jongin suddenly realizes he’s been staring again, and forces himself to blink and turn his head, pointing it aimlessly at the sky in the same direction as the strangers and instantly feeling a chill run through his body, though he’s not sure if it’s from the air this time. It takes him all of two seconds to realize what the other has been so mesmerized by- the falling snow.

“It’s getting colder out.” He whispers, his soft voice carrying through the night, and Jongin can’t help but nod, for once wanting to agree. To be compatible. To fit in. He turns his head just a bit to glance at the other again, his own eyes almost as wide at the strangers beside him.

The figure turned his head slowly, his eyes resting on Jongin’s, and his smile becoming wider, softer. “You look tired.” He whispered, warm breath coming out in white puffs and seemingly reaching out to caress Jongin’s cheek. Jongin didn’t respond though. He can’t. This time it isn’t the snow that’s frozen him, it’s the knowledge that he could say something wrong. That he could potentially break someone else. That someone so fragile looking and sensitive could fall into a million pieces from one of Jongin’s jagged edges. So, he stayed quiet, his own eyes probably betraying him in that moment- revealing too much to the other’s all too seeing eyes.

Jongin could tell this person was different. This person didn’t have to ask for him to know what Jongin was feeling. Needing. He didn’t have to voice anything, and the other didn’t need to pry. He simply knew. Jongin could tell from the way the stranger looked at him, with those large, innocent eyes, that the pity in in them was genuine. The pity was for Jongin himself and no one else.

Jongin felt a pang in his chest that hurt worse than any other pain he had felt before, and he instantly dropped his head. He had only made eye contact for a brief moment, but in that moment he felt as if the stranger had read every single sin on his soul, every single wound, every single emotion. It was raw, and it was terrifying. Yet it was the most comforting feeling he had ever experienced with another human being, and he desperately wanted to feel it again. To feel understood. To feel…

“You should rest.” Came the response from the other, and Jongin suddenly snapped back into consciousness from his thoughts.

Jongin sat up straight and leaned back on the bench, his eyes falling back onto the other easily, a sudden mask of indifference on his face. “..What’s your name, good Samaritan?” He asked aloofly, peering into the strangers face.

Jongin put up a front to remain distant, knowing all too well the other had the power to make him crash at any instant, and there was no way in hell Jongin would let the cause be any other person than himself; it was bad enough he’d come this far.

The stranger offered him another soft smile, the light reflecting off his lips, and Jongin couldn’t help but slip up a bit, wishing terribly to just take him and…

“Do Kyungsoo.” He whispered, cutting Jongin off from his all too vivid thoughts. “And you are?” He asked softly, his eyes never once leaving Jongin’s.

Jongin struggled a moment with himself, swallowing hard and deciding which name would be best to give him. “…Kai.” He managed after some time, his eyes once again failing him. He turned and looked away at, just so long as it wasn’t at Kyungsoo, guilt already slamming into him.

“..Kai, hmm?” He asked lightly, tilting his head a bit to try and recapture Jongin’s eyes, his own inquiring, but his voice never asking.

“..It’s a stage name.” He finally blurted out, unable to hold it in anymore. He turned his face to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes again, his breath coming in short huffs and in his eyes a hint of fear. “My real name is.. Kim Jongin.” He finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, and this time, his eyes never left Kyungsoo’s.

Kyungsoo’s smile widened and his eyes seemed to sparkle with joy. “Jongin.” He repeated, giving a small nod. “I’ll remember it.” He whispered, and for once, Jongin wanted nothing more than to hear his name come from those precious lips again. He felt his own lips tugging up slightly in the corners, and caught it just in time, forming a quick smirk before ripping himself up off the bench.

“…You should follow your own advice.” He managed, his tone better this time, but the comment itself off-putting. “…See you around, Kyungsoo.” He whispered, almost nervously, attentively, because he wasn’t sure the other would even want to see him again, though he knew he, at least, would try.

Kyungsoo simply nodded in response, his brilliant smile resounding up at Jongin. “Take care, Kim Jongin.” He whispered, watching as Jongin turned from him, and wandered away into the night.

When Jongin had gotten a little way down the road, he turned just slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the man that had seemingly changed his world in that one instant, but he wasn’t there. Kyungsoo had already disappeared into the night just like before. Just like the white breath that so casually drifted between them and disappeared into the darkness.

The walk back home was treacherous. Ice was everywhere under the freshly fallen snow, and when Jongin slipped, there was no one to catch him; nothing to break his fall. But Jongin was used to hitting rock bottom alone, so picking himself back up and trudging on home wasn’t too difficult.

When he arrived hone, Jongin instantly threw himself into the shower, groaning at the sensation of the hot water hitting his freezing skin. His frozen limbs stung as the hot water thawed his muscles and soothed his aches, at least for the time being.

His thoughts ran through the moments he had shared with Kyungsoo that night as his soapy hands ran over his exposed skin. Kyungsoo’s big, round, shimmering eyes.. Kyungsoo’s perfectly white skin and pink tinged cheeks.. Kyungsoo’s luscious, tempting lips.

Jongin let out a small groan as he felt the newly gained heat in his body center around his groin. He let his hand trail down, touching the sensitive appendage and letting his moans fill the night air as he came undone, all the while picturing that beautiful face under him, calling his name softly.

Disgusted. This time, Jongin was disgusted with himself. He slammed the water off and stepped out, wrapping himself in a towel. He dried off quickly before dressing for bed and heading down the hall to his bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind him and stepped over to his window, flinging it open and fighting the sudden urge to throw up, and just jump out. But Jongin is a coward, so he sinks to the floor instead.

So many things were new to Jongin that day. Never once had he felt the hate he felt for himself in that moment. And never once had he felt the affection for another human being like he felt for Kyungsoo. His head was spinning and his body was trembling as he forced himself into bed, all his thoughts racing and pounding against his skull, fighting to get out.

And once again, he breaks.